


Forgotten Days

by orphan_account



Category: Suikoden I, Suikoden V
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-28
Updated: 2009-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:57:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Home to Lyon was wherever the prince was. Prince x Lyon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten Days

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows the canon of one of the good endings, the one where the prince and Lyon take a trip with Georg. But where do they go? Why, after meandering about the Island Nations they're going north to the Scarlet Moon Empire, the setting of the first Suikoden game. For those of you who know jack zilch about Sui the first, this story's pretty safe to read if you like Prince/Lyon. Gremio, young master McDohl and co. are characters from Sui1, and this is a peak into their lives before McDohl's taste of Tenkai-stardom, yes, but it's mostly Prince/Lyon. Yay. Those of you who HAVE played it will be able to appreciate this story, I hope. XD Admittedly I just wanted to write something where Lyon and Gremio meet, because them meeting and fussing over their favorite boys together would be pure win. You know it would.

Lyon spent a fair portion of her life in servitude of the prince. She started as an occasional playmate in childhood, to a sparring partner in foax combat, and eventually evolved into a full-fledged body guard in lieu of keeping her word to Ferid. That word being that she would only raise a sword to protect what was important to her.

In that case, nothing could possibly be more important to her than the prince. She nearly died for his sake twice, and through his kindness and devotion she was able to live to see another day. Every moment she had to gaze at the stars, or feel the breeze drift through her hair were moments given to her by the prince. Subtle as each moment could be, she learned to treasure each one more as time went on.

Then there were moments that weren't quite so subtle. As the pair of them travelled with Georg amidst the vast sea, they shared much. Some things they shared were more pleasant than others. She for one could certainly live without another bout of sea sickness, or battling a random sea monster that happened to crawl on deck. Or worse. Fighting monsters while sea sick. That was about as fun as taking a knife to the back, but unlike that she would gladly never fight a monster while sea sick ever again.

Then there were moments where the ship would not rock so much, and any trace of vomit on her breath was but a memory. She would likely be standing outside of the prince's room, ready for him to come out as soon as he was feeling better. He mostly looked a little green when he finally decided to show himself, but when he did they would take hands and walk out on deck. Each day they hoped to see land, but sometimes all they saw was the sunset. The prince would lace his fingers into hers, and he would have a serene smile upon his face; however, he would never turn to face her, and he hardly ever said a word. This often left Lyon feeling at a loss. Just what could he be thinking?

The Island Nations were a very commercial set of lands. Each place had a variety of interesting goods and foods. Some places were more comfortable than others. Any place with a nice hot spring was always a treat, and nobody seemed to pay them any mind. Not a soul around had guessed that Freyjador Falenas himself was buying a seashell bracelet, or a plate of squid. That was exactly what he wanted, though, to get away from the pressing eyes of Falena. To get away from being the prince. It was a great burden for one as kind as him to bear. He made a remarkable leader and hero, but all the same he left his country in capable hands, to his sister.

He worried often that he was being just a bit selfish, and that Lymsleia was probably lonely. All the same, the harsh reality was that she was the queen. If she of all people couldn't learn to stand on her own in Falena, no one could. Of course she missed him, as was evident in the occasional message bird they had received. For the most part Falena was doing well, save for its inevitable little troubles, so the prince ought not to have any regrets. He suffered through quite enough as it was.

So Lyon cherished every moment that he smiled, and laughed out loud. He quite enjoyed activities like one-on-one duels with every pirate who challenged him, or tried to steal his potch. As his body guard, Lyon didn't often get an opportunity to appreciate his strength, but when he dueled he made a point to show off. He'd always give her a smile, sometimes even a wink before taking out his adversaries as though they were little more than a bruise on his royal hide. They always thought the same of him, too, and sometimes Lyon herself was guilty of this. They always thought the prince was a delicate man, possibly because his disposition was kind and welcoming. That sort of thing was perceived by some as a weakness, and boy did they have a rude awakening when the prince played along with their little games.

Lyon and Georg never had to step in either. As his body guard she offered to fight in his place every now and then, each offer was met by laughter and taunts from the pirates. Apparently having a girl fight for him was supposed to be degrading, and yet she couldn't see how. Had the prince allowed her she would have shown them what's what and shown far less mercy. He preferred to fight his own battles though.

It was always like that, even before she was appointed his official body guard. It wasn't just she that had insisted that she have the position. The prince as well insisted that it be her simply because it would be more fun that way. Any other body guard would not have fought beside him, would not have known his moves like second nature, and would not have given him as much freedom to fight as he pleased. Their allegiance would have been to Ferid and Arshtat over the prince's. Lyon's allegiance, however, was solely to the prince. Ferid, knowing that, appointed Lyon body guard without giving it a second thought.

Still, she knew what body guard entailed, and did her best to make sure the prince knew it as well, so as to be prepared for the worst. He must have known in theory that she was bound via contract with Falena to give her life for him if need be. It was clear to her that such a contract was just a formality to him. She almost died for him twice in the same war, and both times he would not allow it. In journeying away from Falena, he was not allowing Lyon to end up in anymore situations as dangerous as that for quite some time. He had told her that one night, and wrapped his arms around her in an almost desperate embrace. He hadn't held her like that since after they had calmed the Sun Rune. Many ghosts from that terrible war still haunted him.

They remained on the island called Middleport for two moons before Georg decided it was time to move on. He thought the prince and Lyon would be content to live on the island together in the small place they had rented. Their hearts were mending, and the sight and sound of the sea was soothing; however, if a change of scenery was what Georg wanted, then the prince was all for a whole new adventure. Naturally Lyon tagged along with no complaint, except of course for the sea sickness. Nothing would ever be OK about the sea sickness.

It felt like forever before they reached the next port, and Lyon thought she would just die if she had to taste regurgitated fish any longer. Thankfully they had reached land, and the humidity in the climate wasn't quite as dense as she was used to. She often felt cold, but said nothing as they carried along. The three of them travelled quite a ways along the planes, only making a few necessary stops for food and so forth. Georg knew of a nearby village, though clearly he had a different perception of "nearby" than she and the prince. They were simply exhausted before they even saw a hint of a smoking chimney off in the distance.

And so it was, what George called The Warrior's Village. As the prince and Lyon stopped to catch their breaths the sun began to set over the planes. They were certain to reach the village by nightfall, but were so tired that they were tempted to ask if they could camp out and save the rest of the walk for morning. Of course, neither of them spoke up. When Georg capped his water the three of them set off. Lyon was especially feeling out of shape. At least the prince got his share of exercise from beating up pirates.

It must have been the exhaustion, or the wind playing tricks on her, but she could have sworn she felt the prince's hand brush against her own as they walked along. She looked at him for a long time, studying his stern profile. The orange that the sun cast against his face eluded any flush in his cheeks, but he was sweating and staggering a little. One of the monsters they had encountered took a nasty whack at his ankle earlier. It was nothing a potion couldn't fix of course, but after a rough trek through the Island Nations and past Kooluk they fought more than their share of monsters, and were running dangerously low on potions. Lyon hoped this Warrior's Village had a rune master that could give her a water rune. She hadn't much talent for magic, but she had to do everything she could for the prince nonetheless.

"Hmm, is something wrong, Lyon?" said the prince, his eyes not quite turned to hers. If anything she should have been asking him as much. His every step was becoming more exaggerated as they carried along, and his eyes seemed foggy. That could have been due to the all-day walk, or possibly that plant that took a nick at his ankle had poisoned him. The prince had a habit of feigning wellness, preferring to stand on his own. This was another reason Ferid appointed Lyon his body guard. The prince wouldn't tell just any average Joe if he wasn't feeling well. Sometimes Lyon stood a chance, though.

"I'm concerned about you," said Lyon, inspecting him for more signs of poisoning. She had one last antidote tucked away in her sash just in case.

Of course, he showed no sign of relenting. He just smiled at her as always, his demeanor as soft and pleasant as ever. She wasn't buying it, though. She intended to suggest that he take her antidote just in case he was poisoned, but they were suddenly ambushed by a decent amount of monsters. Georg insisted that they be left to him, and Lyon stood before the prince with her sword drawn in case any monster plowed through Georg's assault. The prince voiced a protest that fell on deaf ears. It didn't matter if this were Falena where everybody knew his face, or Holy Harmonia which was on the polar opposite end of the world. As long as he was alive, Lyon would protect him.

Thankfully the assault was ended in a flash by Georg. He wiped their path clean of threat in a matter of seconds, and the trio could finally see the gates of the Warrior's Village. As they approached the two guards on either side of the gate looked at them suspiciously, but when Georg introduced himself they were allowed in without question. One guard in particular had a leer in his eye directed toward Lyon. It sent a familiar and unwelcome chill up her spine; however, he was discouraged when the prince laced his fingers in hers and smiled at the guard. It wasn't a very nice smile, though. She did her best not to comment on his unbecoming conduct. After all, on these lands he was just another beggar.

"Well, if it isn't Georg Prime!" said a man out of the blue. He was an older gentleman, dressed in a heavy red cloak and armor. She could hardly see his face as the last bit of sun had finally dipped beyond the horizon, and the sky was mostly speckled with stars. There was only half a moon that night. She kept her free hand near the hilt of her sword for the prince's sake. "What brings you all the way here? Oh, what am I saying? You're legendary for coming and going as you please. Why, I remember when… "

"Sorry to interrupt, Zorak, but my entourage here is exhausted. Mind giving them a place where they can rest their feet?" said Georg, not seeming at all sorry that he had interrupted Zorak. Lyon was always interested to know about Georg's past. Though he wasn't quite as old as he seemed, he indeed seemed to have gotten around quite a bit. In fact, she wouldn't have put it past him to have been to Holy Harmonia itself, which was a place Lyon and the prince only visited in historical texts. And quite frankly, she thought it would always be that way. She never anticipated either of them leaving Falena, ever. Since the assassination of the queen and Ferid, they have since visited the Island Nations on multiple occasions, and now the Scarlet Moon Empire. What other fantastic new worlds did Georg have in store for them, she wondered?

Not that it mattered. If she had to stand anymore her knees would buckle underneath her, and the prince was fairing no better. Lucky for them, Zorak honored Georg's request and welcomed the trio into his home. He requested that they keep their voices low, seeing as his young granddaughter Tengaar was asleep. He put on a pot of tea as they sat at the table, and told his guests stories nonstop. They were told a very extensive history of how he and Georg came to be friends, which meandered into a spiel about a man called Cliff the Crusader. The moon was well over head by the time he took a moment to pause, and Lyon suspected that he wouldn't stopped if a small girl didn't come out of her room dragging a stuffed bunny across the floor.

"Tengaar, what are you doing up, my dear?" he said, heading toward her. She was little more than a baby, her chubby cheeks flushed, red hair tangled. It brought Lyon back to when Lymsleia was so young, which wasn't that long ago unfortunately. She was the youngest queen in Falenan history by at least ten years, but nevertheless she was capable, and the nation was loyal to her. Strangely enough the Barows became a most trusted ally of hers, though Lyon suspected that that was all the doing of Luserina. Lyon couldn't picture Euram being of any use to Falena anytime soon after all the trouble he had caused.

"Grandpa, who are all these people? Why were you talking so loud to them?" said Tengaar, and Zorak lifted her into his arms and carried her off to bed. Georg told the prince and Lyon to head off to bed while they had the chance. Well, it was too late for the prince. He had fallen asleep with his head propped against the table. As much as Lyon didn't want to disturb him, she slung one of his arms over her shoulders, rousing him just the slightest, though he was nowhere near coherent. Georg led them to the guest bedrooms, and Lyon wasted not time in removing the prince's shoes and sliding the covers over him. He was so peaceful when he slept. It made her tired just thinking about it.

The following morning Lyon awoke at the crack of dawn, not feeling at all ready to get up, though she had errands to run. She first took advantage of Zorak's shower, not having a proper wash since her last day in Middleport. She was a body guard, a queen's knight apprentice even. She could handle a little dirt and grime, but it was nice to wash it all away.

She managed to make a decent bit of potch from killing monster after monster after monster, and used it for none other than the greater good of the prince. Without waking him she dressed in casual clothing and headed into town, browsing various stores. She stocked up on potions and antidotes, and even had a water rune placed in her right hand. It was sure to come in handy when they travelled farther north. Georg said they would be stopping at the capital Gregminster, which was just below the boarder of Jowstone, an enemy country that was stirring up trouble. The last thing Lyon wanted was to be involved in anymore wars, though she supposed as mere travelers she and the prince weren't obligated to partake in any combat. That was a good thing, at least.

When she returned to Zorak's there was a full plate of breakfast waiting for her, and the prince was finally awake. He had dressed in his casual red tunic and gi pants, appearing the part of any old traveler around these parts. He had picked up habits from them as well. His talk, where it already had a tendency to be less than becoming of a prince before, really started to blend in with the commoners. He had ended up in a conversation with two of Zorak's apprentices; Clyde and Zak were their names. They spoke of a brash young man named Flik who had disappeared from the village quite some time prior, laughing over his antics, though apparently he was one of the best fighters in the village. He was also a competent magic user, which was a skill more suited for a woman in the village. All of the rules and customs seemed overwhelming, and Lyon could see where Georg was coming from when he called Falena a laid back nation. Compared to this, he was absolutely right.

"So, if you ever see him, give him our regards," said Clyde with a snicker. Lyon didn't know where in the world they were expected to find such a person. Before she could ask, which she was half tempted not to, Zak chimed in.

"You can't miss 'im. Flik's got a girlier face than yer boyfriend there, missy."

Lyon's brows furrowed, and she slammed the table with the palm of her hand. Their laughter died at once.

"Enough! How dare you disrespect the p-" she started, but the word "prince" would not emerge as he tugged her sleeve and shook his head. He seemed to have no qualms over having his appearance snickered at. Indeed his mother's features were quite dominant in him, but if his fighting spirit were aroused he would resemble Ferid much more. She almost hoped those hooligans would challenge him to a duel only to meet their demise; however, they continued their banter on pure nonsense. She tuned them out most effectively until Georg's timely return. He had secured two horses for the three of them so they could reach Gregminster much faster. That was a relief. Her feet were still sore from the previous night.

They traveled along with very little stops, the land as lush and grassy at it was in Falena. There weren't as many trees, or bodies of water, and the air was as cool against her skin as the sun was warm. The prince had agreed to take the reigns as he was more skilled with a horse than she was. She simply laid into his back, pressing her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the endless scenery of grass and more grass. On horses they were hardly ever attacked by monsters, and when they were Georg mostly took care of it. He was ahead because he knew the land, so the prince and Lyon kept back and relaxed. She even napped against his back, which was why her arms circled around his torso so not to fall, not that he'd allow her to. They kept to the subtle dirt trail until nightfall and camped out, and kept to this routine for a couple of days until they reached the Fortress of Kwaba. They hadn't slept in actual beds since the Warrior's Village, so Lyon was delighted to make a stop at Lenankamp.

The following day the trio headed up to Gregminster on foot, as it was little more than a few hours away and the horses needed nourishment. There were no complaints. In fact, once accustomed to it Lyon rather enjoyed the cooler weather. It made the walk quite a bit less tedious.

Strangely enough, Georg had some trouble getting into Gregminster. The guard at the gate was an older gentleman, and did not take kindly to the unexpected company. He was especially skeptical of the prince for some reason, which of course got under Lyon's skin. She should have known better than to argue on his behalf, but she would have had a rather burly gentleman not approached the gate. This man called Pahn was another acquaintance of Georg. Apparently they had met in a bar one evening and Pahn, a man who would challenge anyone who looked tough, challenged Georg. They spoke of having a rematch as they walked through the city, but Lyon was in awe of how big it was. It was as though she were entering Sol Falena for the first time all over again.

There were stores and homes and people every way they turned. Sol Falena's dominant structure was mostly the castle, which was surrounded by the water of the Feitas River. It appeared big, but not many commoners lived there. This place was full of so much. She marveled at all the sights and sounds, and the prince was also impressed. She could tell that he wanted to ditch Georg and go exploring, but refrained. Unlike Sol Falena, this land was in no way his, or familiar. It was best just to stand by those who knew the land.

Pahn stopped in front of an impressive looking home, the home of a man called General Teo McDohl. How one such as Pahn was affiliated with such a hero was beyond Lyon, though she had seen stranger. Men such as Georg and Kyle being queen's knights was an extraordinary feat, though not quite as much as Ferid being king apparently. Nobles liked to gossip about that and the prince back before Sol Falena was under Godwin's siege. Not much tended to surprise Lyon anymore.

Beside the house there was a dirt patch along the length of the house's side. Along that patch was a small boy waving his staff around at invisible enemies, making sound effects for each of them that fell. She and the prince watched the boy as he charged like a horse, made arrow whistle and magic explosion noises. Then he waved his staff in a slow and clumsy way around the top of his head before pointing it to the ground.

"You have fallen to the great General Tir McDohl. Never beemirch this land again, or face my awesome wrath, rahhh!"

"That's besmirch, young master," said a woman leaning against the side of the house smiling. Had she not said anything Lyon may not have noticed her. That little boy sure knew how to steal the show. "And you've trained quite enough today. Master Kai left hours ago. Besides, it seems Pahn's guests have arrived."

"We have company?" asked young master McDohl, running up to the strange group of people without question. It was in his nature to talk to every person he met and make friends. Why, there wasn't a soul in Gregminster that didn't know his face, though not everyone knew that he was the son of Master Teo. It was hard to miss the resemblance, though young master McDohl had a more genial and welcoming presence about him, where the presence of someone as high ranking as his father could be quite intimidating.

"Hello there," said the prince, who was already taken by the boy. Since Lym was born he had always loved children. They were especially quick to warm up to him, even that crude Toma boy that pretended to be angry all of the time liked the prince. The prince simply had a way with people, and it was apparent to Lyon that this little young master was no different. He was eager to show the prince some of his fighting moves with his staff, and although the woman leaning against the house protested the prince insisted that it was no trouble. When it came to combat, the staff was his specialty.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you," the young boy announced, leaning into a fighting stance. The prince pulled out his own weapon the doubled as a nunchaku. To be fair he would only use it as a staff. His stance was relaxed. He couldn't fight such a young boy seriously. He was barely older than Lymsleia.

When the boy came at the prince with all his strength, he parried and dodged his every move. Though the boy was a little sloppy, he did have a sense for what he was doing. He didn't leave himself open to any attacks, which told him that this Master Kai taught him self-defense more than anything. This boy wouldn't be going into any serious combat anytime soon with such soft moves.

"If you keep exerting all of your strength from your arms you're going to wear yourself out," said the prince, as soon as the young master was out of breath. His bangs clung to his forehead as beads of sweat rolled down his jaw, and he was panting. He still had his staff held before him in defense, though he didn't seem prepared to dodge an attack. He must have trusted the prince a bit too much to bother. It was too perfect. The prince held his staff horizontally like a spear and said, "You have to use your whole body, not just your arms. Like this!"

He lunged forward with enough force to knock McDohl over; his staff aiming at the boy's so not to harm him in any way. The prince laughed, as did the boy. It was pretty amazing to Lyon how very much alike these two strangers were, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves quite a bit.

Unhurt the young master McDohl picked himself up off the dirt immediately and said, "Like this?"

He lunged toward the prince with every ounce of strength that little body of his could muster, and the side of his staff slammed into the prince's. He and the prince both fell to the ground as a result of that, though Lyon guessed that the prince let him have that one. They were both laughing, that was until another man stormed out of the large home. He seemed furious.

"Young master, what in the world has gotten into you?" said the scarred man, yanking the little boy up off the prince and brushing the dirt off his tunic and trousers. Despite the man's reprimanding tone, the boy was still laughing at all the fun he'd had. Lyon offered the prince a hand and was tempted to brush the dirt off of his own clothes, before her own giggling clued him in and he did it himself.

"Aww, come on, Gremio. This guy was helping me with my training," said the boy, his laughter dying down quite a bit as his caretaker's hands continued to brush dirt from his clothes while he scolded him. It was one thing if it was just Pahn and Cleo around, but getting the full Gremio fuss treatment in front of complete strangers was kind of embarrassing.

"Was he?" said Gremio, turning to the prince. The lack of approval in his eyes set off alarms in Lyon's head. "You there, sir. I'll have to ask you not to impose your violent nature on my young master."

"What?!" said Lyon, and the prince cringed just the slightest bit. Every pair of eyes in the proximity was upon her, but that did nothing to silence her frustration. "How dare you speak of the prince in such a crude matter? He's got a kinder heart than anyone. Why I-"

"Lyon, that's enough," said the prince, hoping that their cover wasn't completely blown. There weren't swarms of people surrounding them and muttering, therefore his status as prince of Falena hopefully eluded them. It wouldn't for long if for every time someone acted skeptical around the prince Lyon lost her cool. He thought she had grown a tolerance for this untoward behavior around all the pirates, but boy was he wrong.

"Prince? What in the world… ?" said Gremio, staring at Lyon as though she had grown a second head.

"You're a prince?" said young master McDohl, as though this mysterious stranger wasn't already the coolest man alive (save for his father, of course.)

"Perhaps we should head inside," Georg offered, to which everyone decided was best. Not even the young master McDohl complained, though he wanted to play outside some more. Much to Gremio's apprehension, the boy stayed attached to the prince, asking him all sorts of questions.

The prince and Georg spoke of the tragedy that befell Falena, though such stories were only second-hand rumors and idle talk of the town. No one seemed particularly interested in it, Falena being far away as it was and having no attachment to the Scarlet Moon Empire whatsoever. Besides, the empire had its own problems; hence the reason General Teo McDohl was not present. He was the father of young master Tir, who seemed perfectly content to have a scarcely present hero as a father. In fact, he had listened to the prince's story so intently that it seemed he had a brand new hero.

"My, what an awful ordeal you have been through, your highness," said Gremio, his attitude toward the prince having completely shifted. Lyon supposed she could forgive his naïve outburst from earlier. After all, he was pretty protective of his young master, as she was her prince. It wouldn't be proper for her to hold a grudge.

"Indeed, it's no wonder you wanted to get away," said Cleo, and like Gremio she looked very sympathetically upon the prince. Pahn and Georg were silent. The only one who seemed cheerful was Tir, who had vacated his seat from Gremio and approached the prince which wide, astonished eyes. The prince looked down and smiled.

"You're a real hero!" said Tir, tugging at his wrist. He wanted Tir to get up. "A really real hero! Just like my dad. That's so cool.

"Come on, Mr. Prince. Let's go play in my room for awhile. The grown ups are being all boring and quiet."

"Young master, let him be. He must be exhausted," said Gremio, and Tir pouted just a little bit. Of course, the prince wouldn't let such a stale sadness interfere with his life forever. He told everyone that he'd be happy to occupy the young master, and allowed himself to be pulled toward the boy's room. Tir's chattering could be heard even as the door to his room shut behind him. Lyon wondered if she should follow, but didn't think of a single reason why she should. The prince loved children, and he was probably thinking of Lym. Tir was certainly as vocal and spirited as Lym was, not to mention he was a bit like a younger version of the prince, only without having royal protocol drilled into his being since birth. Just this once Lyon was going to let him be.

"Well, I must prepare a feast fit for royalty this evening. Who would have ever guessed that Pahn's guest would be affiliated with royalty," said Gremio, wandering off into the kitchen.

"I'm just as surprised as he is," said Pahn with a chuckle. "Then again if it's you, Georg, then maybe not. Feel free to bring the prince by more often. When Gremio says he's going to make a meal fit for royalty, he means it."

"Honestly, Pahn. Would you quit thinking with your stomach for once?" said Cleo, rolling her eyes at his antics. She then retreated to the stairs, leaving her half-sipped tea to grow cold. Pahn and Georg also left, discussing that rematch of theirs and where they would have it. Lyon was left alone at the table, finishing off the last of her tea as she pondered what exactly had happened.

The Scarlet Moon Empire was no enemy to Falena. Their malice only reached as far down as Kooluk, a nation Falena wasn't on great terms with either, therefore all the Empire and the Queendom shared was a common enemy. Was it really OK to reiterate Falena's recent civil war to the Empire that was so revered for its military power and influence? Of course, to make any attack on Falena they would have to get through the Island Nations first, which would probably be more trouble than it was worth. Still, with enough greed and ambition an enemy country was capable of just about anything. Rumors that the Scarlet Moon Empire wasn't as great as it seemed buzzed around Falena time and again, but much like here very little concern was behind those claims. Perhaps Lyon was over thinking.

"So much to do, so much to do, oh my… " said Gremio, charging out of the kitchen flustered as though his every move were being closely scrutinized by royalty. In a way that was true, and the way he reacted was much like any Falenan commoner would react in the presence of the prince. Sometimes the strong reactions were overwhelming, but no matter how people spoke to or treated him, the prince would react the only way he knew how, with kindness. "Oh, what a mess! Pahn should have warned me about this sooner, oh… "

He started to gather the tea cups in frenzy, and if he shook anymore he was liable to drop and break them. The china was quite fine, though, and was obviously worth a pretty potch. She gathered her empty cup and the prince's, and Gremio paused for a moment as though dumbfounded by what she was doing.

"That's not necessary, Miss Lyon. Please don't trouble yourself."

"It's no trouble at all. In fact, if there's any way I can I'd like to help you."

"I couldn't possibly-" but Lyon insisted and carried the two tea cups into the kitchen with Gremio on tow. Once Lyon made up her mind about something there were no buts. Yet another reason why Ferid entrusted the prince to her. She outweighed him in terms of tenacity. If there were any opponent that posed a true threat to him she would not allow him near them no matter what he said.

"Perhaps you could tell me some of his highness's favorite dishes, Miss Lyon?" said Gremio, pulling out a variety of spices, cooking utensils, and vegetables that put Retsu's kitchen to shame.

"Certainly," said Lyon, rolling up her sleeves as she washed her hands. She intended to help him with the cooking. Though she was no expert, she did learn a thing or two when living on the Island Nations with no servants called for it. Gremio assigned her the tedious task of cutting potatoes as she listed the many foods that the prince liked. In fact, she couldn't think of much the prince wouldn't eat. He wasn't a fan of pickles, or mayonnaise, but otherwise he wasn't too picky.

Knowing this calmed Gremio quite a bit, but he was still nervous. He must have given Lyon the tasks that required knives for this reason. She almost asked, but before she could he out and apologized profusely for his conduct earlier. The apology fell upon the wrong set of ears, but the prince would be far quicker to accept that apology than Lyon. After all, this wasn't the first time he was treated with skepticism, and it wouldn't be the last. When Gremio finally offered Lyon the opportunity to take his life for his mistake, Lyon out and told him he was being ridiculous. The prince would never forgive her for such a deed.

"He is certainly a kind man," said Gremio. "And if you don't mind my saying, that kindness is almost unbecoming of royalty."

"That's because male royalty in Falena doesn't get much pressure," said Lyon, offering Gremio the chopped vegetables which he tossed into the pot. "The prince doesn't have to act as a leader, just as a diplomat."

"I see." Gremio smiled as he stirred the stew. "Young master is quite taken by him. He has always been fascinated by heroes, because of his father.

"Though sometimes I worry that he might be too lonely without his father. He always asks me to tell him stories about Master Teo, and when I run out of them he asks me about the stories of the other generals, knights, and heroes. He was so quick to assert himself and throw himself into a combat training regimen. I don't know how Master Kai can keep up with him. He seems so eager to throw himself into war on tow with his father, though he hasn't a clue about the sadness and despair war brings about.

"Perhaps his highness can talk some sense into him."

"It was never about being a hero," said Lyon, ducking her head down as a slew of painful memories came to her. "The prince did what was necessary. He was very heartbroken, yet kept that behind a mask as he sought people to support his cause. I've never seen him cry, or back down. He simply did what he had to. What he endured more than anything made him a hero. Everyone admired that strength, though really it just made me nervous.

"Still, I would support him in any of his endeavors, even at the cost of my life. He isn't just my prince. He's my most precious person."

"Indeed, I know exactly how you feel," said Gremio, stirring the stew with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "I would do anything for my young master. Master Teo entrusted his care to me, and I will raise him to be the best man he can be, no matter how nervous he makes me. He's growing up so fast."

From there Gremio prepared his fine dishes on his own, and the entire kitchen smelled just wonderful. Lyon did him the favor of setting the table and cleaning any wayward dishes, one Gremio insisted that she shouldn't have to do, but she did anyway. It made things quicker that way, and the smell of the food was rousing her appetite. It had been a long time since she was so eager to eat, especially since she had spent much of her time on the sea, trying not to be sick. She shook those memories right out of her head as she folded the silverware into the napkins.

"Would you mind fetching young master and his highness for me, Miss Lyon?" said Gremio, who was on his way to fetch Pahn and Cleo. He hoped Pahn and Georg hadn't gone too far, though he doubted it. If there was one man who was never late for a meal, it was Pahn.

Lyon gladly took the opportunity to peak in on the prince and his new admirer. They had long since quieted down. She knocked once, and garnered no protest so she pushed the door open. There were toy soldiers strewn across the floor, and a coloring sheet. On the bed the prince was propped against the head of the bed snoring lightly with young master McDohl curled at his aside, using his chest as a pillow. There was a book titled "Great Heroes" resting beside the prince. That was funny, because when the prince was just a boy that was his favorite book as well.

"Prince?" said Lyon, but he wouldn't stir. Like Lady Sialeeds he was a bit of a tenacious sleeper, yet he never reacted violently to being woken up. He just refused to get up unless someone made a point to wake him up. Long ago Lymsleia would pounce on him and give him a kiss on the forehead. That usually got his attention. Though pouncing would probably hurt the young master.

Lyon hoped she wasn't being too bold, but she knew he wouldn't mind, somehow. She grasped onto his two shoulders, gave them a little shake, and ducked down to give his forehead a kiss. Perhaps he would awaken to a fond memory. When he opened his eyes and found Lyon looking down at him, he blushed and chuckled a little.

"I guess I fell asleep," he said, and scratched the back of his head. Sometimes it was hard to remember that he was a prince, given how mellow he was. That was, when not faced with any immediate danger. That was perhaps why she felt she could be so bold around him, and yet she wondered if she had come on too strong. After all, he was a prince, and she was simply Lyon. There have been exceptions in the past, Ferid being the most recent one, but she didn't dare to hope or dream of a world where she could be anything more to the prince than his body guard. It just wouldn't be allowed.

Whenever he smiled at her, or she allowed him to take her hand, it was as though time would stop. For a few moments their hearts were allowed to beat for each other in unison, and his warmth would fill her like the sunrise after a brisk night. Yet facts were facts, and fantasy was fantasy, and facts were physical and accepted and real. The fact was, he was a prince. Perhaps never looking her in the eyes was his way of keeping his distance. She would simply have to learn to accept that in time.

"Lyon? You look flushed. A-are you ill?" said the prince, cupping her cheek in his free hand. Just then she was the one to avert her gaze once she met his curious blue eyes. She denied anything was wrong, and forced a little smile upon her lips, inviting him to dinner the moment she heard voices coming up the stairs. Nodding, the prince shook young master McDohl awake, and they headed to the dinner table together in relative silence.

Much of the conversation consisted of Pahn and Cleo bickering, and Gremio telling Cleo not to use that kind of language in front of the young master. The prince sat beside Lyon and the two of them would not exchange words, or looks. Sometimes McDohl would speak to the prince, if his face wasn't stuffed with stew and biscuit that is. He didn't dare speak with his mouth full, or he would never hear the end of it from Gremio.

Georg noticed the silent discomfort and strange body language from the prince and Lyon for quite a long time, and it was more apparent than ever at the dinner table. The prince had quite the longing gaze reserved for her, and where Lyon's attitude toward him didn't change much, she was intuitively rejecting many of his hints. Usually this was because she was slow to catch on to this sort of thing; however, to an extent she must have known what all of the hand holding, the smiles, and being unable to look her in the eye entailed. One would have to be blind not to see it, though he would not interfere. That was a problem they would have to work out on their own.

So after they ate, he and Pahn and Cleo decided to head to the pub and make an adult party of their reunion. Gremio made it painfully clear that they were not to come back too late, and even if they did they were to come back more silent than a pin drop. Young master McDohl was a growing boy and needed to sleep properly, or else Teo would never forgive him.

As for the prince and Lyon, Georg arranged for them to sleep at Marie's Inn. Young master McDohl protested, insisting that they should stay with him for the night, and use the room Ted would use when he came over. The room in the inn was bought and booked, though, so they couldn't possibly waste Georg's money.

"I'll stop by and play tomorrow, OK?" said the prince, kneeling before the general's son and giving his head a good rub. In return, young master McDohl gave him a hug and even went as far as to call him "big brother." Lyon swore that that one sounded familiar.

The night was young, but as the darkness grew, so did the amount of lecherous men that gave Lyon that look. Normally the prince was tolerant of just about anything, but that look really tried his patience. He laced his fingers into Lyon's as he had many times and let the people think that it was exactly as it looked. Lyon blushed, and could feel the rate of her heartbeat increase. One of these days this scenario was not going to end well.

Of course "one of these days" wasn't supposed to translate into "tonight," but when Marie confirmed their reservation one particularly drunk beggar had the gall to pinch Lyon on the behind, and she yelped. She had never seen the prince look so livid. If she hadn't asked him to calm down there was no telling what would have happened to the drunkard. Marie was not tolerant of untoward behavior toward her patrons, and had the man thrown out at once. She even offered them a partial refund, but Lyon deemed it unnecessary and led the prince upstairs where their room would be.

"What nerve," uttered the prince, and it was all Lyon could do to tell him to just let it go. It was embarrassing enough, but if he made a scene it would have been awful. He wasn't exactly known for letting untoward behavior get underneath his skin, but when it did he sure could lose his temper. Thankfully that didn't happen often.

"It was nothing, prince. Really, I'm all right," said Lyon, though she had to admit she was pretty flattered by his concern. Still, whether they knew who he was or not, the prince didn't need to dirty his good name by acting foolishly. Roy did more than enough of that for him.

They each took a seat on their respective beds, staring into the blank wall before them without sharing so much as an occasional glance at each other. The third time they turned away in embarrassment the prince started to laugh. It wasn't loud, and it didn't last very long; however, it was a heartfelt, genuine laugh. The likes of which she hadn't heard in many moons, perhaps since before his parents were assassinated. That was so long ago. He deserved to be happy again, and he was finally reaching that point. Perhaps this trip from Falena had given him what he was looking for after all.

He confirmed her suspicions when he suddenly told her, "I think it's about time we headed home. To Sol Falena. Don't you think?"

Home to Lyon was wherever the prince was. She had no complaints about going to Falena, the Island Nations, Highland, or Holy Harmonia, so long as she got to be with him. Of course she agreed. He had the opportunity to mend his heart, while Lym had the opportunity to make Falena her country. It was half-expected by the people that, although Lym was indisputably the queen of Falena, the prince would take advantage of her young age and naiveté and make of Sol Falena what he would. That, of course, did not happen. Perhaps he was gone long enough in that he could travel back home in peace.

"I'll go wherever you go. It's my duty, and it's what my heart wants," said Lyon, daring to be bold once more. She often would never profess any more than her sworn duty to spare the prince her superficial feelings; however, he seemed quite touched by her admission. So much so that he dared to smile at her, and look into her eyes. He looked as though he were considering something, but before she could guess what that something was he acted of his own will.

The prince grasped her by the shoulders as she had done to him earlier, and answered her second bold move with one of his own. His lips met hers in a clumsy, yet sincere kiss. It could only be described as breathtaking, because Lyon truly could not breathe, or even acknowledge what was happening. The fine line between fact and fantasy had been breeched. Indeed the prince was kissing her as she would sometimes dream, but why would he be doing this? He was the hero of Sol Falena? Why would he risk his good title for the sake of a lowly knight? Did someone slip something into his stew?

It was clear that Lyon was too surprised to make a move, so the prince pulled back and looked uncertain. Sort of how one would look heading into a losing battle, which under normal circumstances this would be anything but; however, he was a prince. She wouldn't allow herself to be with him if he didn't know the risks. If he didn't know everything that could go wrong. If he had forgotten that she was under oath to take a knife for him (again) should he be in any lethal danger. Everything about this was a bad idea, and yet.

And yet she cared for him. Loved him, even.

Her cheeks warmed, and she gently pushed him away.

"Prince, I'm so sorry," said Lyon, tears beginning to brim beneath her eyelids. It must have been her fault to begin with. She was leading him on, inviting him in, and giving him the OK to be so bold as to kiss her. All the same, she could not do this. It just couldn't happen. It wasn't a risk he should take. His future could be met with scorn and heartbreak, all because of her.

He didn't look so ready to give up, though.

"There is nothing to be sorry for. Tell me what's on your mind."

He sat beside her and placed an unsure hand on top of hers. She did not reject the touch, as much as she thought she ought to. The prince looked hurt enough as it was, though. She would have to let him down gently.

"It's silly of me, really," said Lyon, making no move to look at him any time soon. "To feel… to feel as though we, you and I, were more… "

"Why is that silly? We've always been lots of things," said the prince, and he went down the list of everything she was to him. His friend, his family, his sworn protector, his most trusted and precious person. His Lyon. She was more that a lump of superficial titles, too. She was a source of comfort, hope, happiness, devotion, and above all love. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had come to love her, and so long as she would have him he would face any trivial nonsense in exchange for her acceptance. It made her uncomfortable how highly he regarded her. Nevertheless, her heart had never felt so light.

So when he leaned in to kiss her again, she responded. It wasn't just within her contract to keep every last bit of him safe and protected (which included his heart, of course) but she wanted to. She wanted to love him, and she wanted him to feel that love. If he wanted the same then she had no business telling him no. So no matter where in the world he was, whatever trials he faced, or whatever duties he was obligated to fulfill, she would stay with him. That was just the way it was.

\---

Four moons had passed since the prince vacated from Sol Falena, and each day Queen Lymsleia missed her dear older brother. Unfortunately, her duties as queen came before her emotions, and she wouldn't let the Godwins have the last laugh by being any less than the best queen to ever grace the throne of Falena, therefore she made a point to put her duties first. Task number one consisted of assembling a whole group of new Queen's Knights, the acting captain for the time being was Miakis. That sat right with no one, Miakis both not being the queen's intended, and being a woman. This disapproval did not faze Lymsleia in the least, though. The queendom needed knights. Miakis was a knight, Lymsleia's most trusted knight at that. It only made sense that she hold that position, at least until the day her brother returned.

Sol Falena was a real mess. There was a bit of civil upheaval over the whole Godwin issue. Most people agreed by now that he was a power corrupt war monger and had no business taking the queen's hand in marriage. Some were still stuck on nobles only taking the throne. Lymsleia also made it very clear that there would be no Sacred Games, and that all gladiators were to be freed at once. She had received a personal thank you letter from the man called Belcoot for that, and conceded that one such as him wouldn't make a bad husband, but he was way too old. Marriage seemed too unreal to her, too far off, even if she had already been through it once.

She just prayed her brother would make it back to Sol Falena soon. Having him around would relieve the pressure around Miakis at the very least, and though the spunky knight didn't show it, all of the grief and whispers must have been taking their toll on her. There was a real edge to her cheerfulness these days. It reminded her of the days when Godwin first usurped the throne of Falena, and all she had was the position of princess's body guard. It just wasn't right.

Though her life indeed didn't always go right, at least one of Lymsleia's prayers was finally answered. Miakis had a real smile on her face after accepting a letter from one of the Island Nation's messenger birds. The note was very brief, but it had the exact words Lym wanted to read.

_Lyon and I are coming home._

E N D


End file.
